Opposites Attract
by evilblackleprican
Summary: Lizzie and Gordo hate each other until, oops!, they fall in love. Light romantic comedy set in AU. Revised CH4 up!
1. Saying Goodbye

**I would like to dedicate my entire story to maggie-mae-pie, for motivating me to finish it. For any one who ends up falling in love with this story and these characters as much as I have, please thank her for it. I, for one, am eternally grateful. (Not to quote Toy Story, but there you go.)**

****AU INFO ALERT: Lizzie and Miranda have not yet met Gordo, as will be explained. The story starts off in Orlando, Florida. Enjoy!**

* * *

**OPPOSITES ATTRACT**

**evilblackleprican**

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE**

**Saying Goodbye**

* * *

"But that's not true!"

My words were for naught. Miranda continued giggling all over the place, making a complete fool out of herself in my opinion. I chose to stay out of it. I was not about to encourage her any further.

"Oh, Elizabeth! It is so true! You have had the biggest thing against Kate Sanders ever since she and Ethan started going together. Well, more so than you had before." Taking another sip of her drink, she continued. "Come on, Liz. Just let it go and say goodbye to her. She's standing right over there. It won't be that bad, I promise."

We were at the mall, sneaking in one last shopping trip before I left for Cali the following day. It was going great, until we spotted my archenemy pigging out in the Food Court. And I use that term loosely.

I huffed. "No freaking way, Miranda! I am going to make a total fool out of myself. She hates me, and I'm not too fond of her. There's no reason I need to say goodbye to anybody but you! Well, and maybe a couple of others."

She sighed. "Come on, Liz. You don't want the remnants of bad blood between you and any other person to follow you to the grave. I say you end it here and now, and you'll never have to deal with it again."

"But that's the beauty of leaving, Miranda. I will never have to deal with her again. Ever."

"You don't know that. The only thing you avoid by leaving is the confrontation scene. And trust me, it's time for a confrontation scene."

"Oh, didn't I tell you? The script has been rewritten, and, look at that, the confrontation scene has been cut! Oh well."

"Go!" She forced me to the other side of the room. Not that I didn't put up a good fight. It's just that, this is Miranda we're talking about. Only she can force me to do anything she wants! She possesses this power. And what's worse, she knows it too.

"What do you two dimwits want? I am actually trying to enjoy my post-graduation vacation over here and I don't need you all ruining it for me."

"Hi, Kate," Miranda slurred with fake kindness. "It's good to see there's still someone out there who hasn't changed at all since the fourth grade."

"At all." I muttered.

Kate started but Miranda cut her off. "Elizabeth here, you remember her right?" she pulled me out in front of her, with an iron grip I should say, "is actually leaving today. You know, because of her big fancy scholarship and all to UCLA. But before she moves on to bigger and better things, she just really wants to remember the little people who helped her get there."

Kate smiled. I wished she wouldn't. "So, Elizabeth, still have Miranda speaking for you, I see. You know, it's going to be hard to find another speaker in California, especially one just as bitchy. No worries though. Your scholarship will probably cover it. I wonder if it covers babysitters as well? Personal servants? Parents?"

"Shut up, Kate. We all know you're just jealous that you have to stay here in Florida while me and Miranda go off and do something better with our lives. I guess daddy's money can't buy everything, especially a brain."

There was a blur of vision before I went tumbling backwards, the wind knocked out of me. I ended up on the ground, looking up at her. I hated this position. "Don't you dare compare yourself to me, McGuire! Don't you get it? We're not even in the same league! I am so filthy rich, I can do whatever I want for the rest of my life! You, McGuire, will always have to work a hundred times harder to get half as far as me. You, McGuire, will always be my inferior. You better get used to that." With that, Kate stormed off in the opposite direction, leaving all her food behind. What a waste.

Dazed, I looked up at Miranda who was staring back at me with a sheepish grin splashed across her face. "Heh, maybe the confrontation scene was cancelled."

I smiled. "I told you."

* * *

**THE NEXT DAY, at Kyle's House**

"Aw! Aw! Yes! No! Wait! Shit! Agh! Man! No! Yes! Shit! Yes! Aw! YES! YES! Aw! Yes! Ah-haa! VICTORY! Suck on that, David! SUCK...ON...IT!" Kyle went wild. He threw himself across the room, onto the couch, up and down, every which way.

"Ef this!" I threw down my controller. Legend of Zelda was so not worth the aggravation.

Kyle continued. "Ah-haa! Whoo-hoo! Yeah! You sir," he said, pointing at me, "just got OWNED!"

I just shook my head. "Ef you."

He laughed. "Aww…poor David. Now, come on, pay up, pay up."

Begrudgingly, I reached for my wallet. Somehow, I did not expect to spend my last day in Florida losing what was left of my savings to my best friend. I was on the verge of becoming broke before our trip even began, but, somehow, I didn't care. I looked up at Kyle's mischievous eyes and smiled. It was impossible for me to stay mad at him, which really wasn't fair. He was a dick most of the time, and to me anyways. He didn't care. But that was Kyle. We were best friends regardless, and he was coming with me to UCLA. We were going to be roommates for the next four years. I had plenty of time to con him back.

Kyle quickly snatched up the bills that I lay before him. "Whoo-hoo! Yeah! Awesome!" Then, to me, as seriously as he could muster, "I just want you to know, your money is greatly appreciated."

I rolled my eyes and punched him in the shoulder. "Don't get too attached. I have every intention of winning it back, plus interest. But first, we need to get you packing. You do realize we need to leave in an hour to catch our flight? And you haven't even begun to pack, idiot."

His smile quickly evaporated. There was a look of confusion in his eyes. "Umm…flight?"

I laughed and punched him again. "Yeah. Flight. How else are we going to get to California?"

He froze. "California?"

I laughed again, a little more nervously this time. "Yeah. California. Home of UCLA? We have to get there two months before the fall semester begins in order to claim our dorm room? Remember? Any of this a-ringing a bell?"

Without a word, Kyle quickly got up and left the room. As if he had forgotten about something. I stood there, a bit put off. Okay? It didn't last long though because as swiftly as he left, he came back, a letter in hand. And a very important one by the looks of it.

"Yeah…um," he said, keeping his head down, running his free hand through his dark brown hair. I had a feeling this wasn't going to be good. "About that whole…UCLA thing, um…," he handed me the letter, "…yeah."

I snatched the letter and tore it open.

_Dear Kyle Pennyworth,_

_CONGRATULATIONS! You have been accepted into Harvard University._

I stared at the congratulatory opening lines, willing them to bleed off the page. They never did. "Kyle...wh-what is the meaning of this?"

Kyle put on his best joking, affable, charismatic face. The weasel. "Well, as the letter obviously states, David, I've been accepted to Harvard," he laughed. Like an idiot. Like a dick. I told you.

I, however, was not laughing. "Yes. I see that Kyle," I stated in a dangerous tone. I glared, "I thought you were rejected. You told me you were rejected."

"Oh, I was. I mean…the letter explains it. Further down. You see, it was all just a big mistake. I mean, I didn't even know until a couple of *cough* days ago."

"A couple of days." My head was pounding. "You're telling me, you didn't know until a couple of days ago?"

"Well…," he stammered. He was treading hot water, and he knew it. "I would say more like a few weeks."

I started. "It was two months, Kyle! Read the eff-ing date!"

He backed away. The coward. "Okay, okay. Calm down. I just—I-"

"And when exactly were you planning on telling me this? Y'know, since I'm supposed to be leaving in AN HOUR, and all?" I stalked towards him, with every intention of pounding his face in.

"We-well. Ok. That part I might've forgotten."

He forgot. He forgot his best friend, the only one capable of dealing with all his shit, was leaving for good in an hour. Too mad to see straight, and too scared as to what that might entail, I left-slamming the door hard behind me.

It's times like these you wish you were 21.

* * *

**MEANWHILE, at Lizzie's House**

The time had come. How was I supposed to deal with this? I was leaving, without Miranda, MIRANDA! The one person who has truly been there through it all. A lifetime of memories we had built together were now dissipating before my eyes. And she was telling me to calm down?

I was in the process of a complete nervous breakdown, and Miranda was helpless to do anything. "Liz, deep breaths, ok? This is not a never-ending separation. We'll see each other real soon, I promise. And we'll talk every day. There's nothing to get this upset over."

I nodded, trying to understand, trying to refrain from becoming this blubbering baby. But no such luck. The harder I tried to stop from crying, the more tears popped out. Miranda gently grabbed my hand and rested it under her chin. Letting out a deep sigh, she pleaded, "Please, Liz. You have to be strong about this. You have to be mature about this. You just have to."

I looked up at her. Her signature smirk was irresistible. I rolled my eyes. "I'm not stupid, Miranda. I know I'm overreacting, but I can't help it. I just feel like, I'm being separated from everything I know, from everyone I know." I sighed, looking back down. "Maybe this UCLA thing isn't a good idea after all."

As soon as I said it, I knew I didn't mean it. But it was too late. Miranda's stern look was as scary as my mom's and I instantly wished I could have taken my last sentence back. "Elizabeth." Her voice was audible and even. Scary. "You and I both know your dream is in Los Angeles, not in Boston. You belong there, Liz, not with me."

I nodded, understanding completely. I mean, it was a full-ride scholarship they were offering...to the school of my dreams! I'd be a fool to pass it up, even if I wanted to. Miranda's dream was to become a lawyer, go to law school. I couldn't blame her for going after it. Ay, Elizabeth, you're being selfish as usual. "Oh, Miranda," I cracked. "I'm going to miss you so much." I attacked her, giving her an elaborate health-hazardous squeeze.

"Oof! Liz! Control yourself!" Breaking free from my grip, she quickly straightened out any signs of dishevelment. I smiled. "Oh, Liz. You know I'm gonna miss you, too. You don't think I'm just as scared? I don't know anybody at Harvard! But you just gotta think positive. And don't you dare use me as a cop out either!"

I started. "A cop out? How would I use you as a cop out?"

She gave me a stern look. Again. "I know you, Liz. You're gonna use me as a crutch in order to get out of meeting new people. And I won't allow it."

My face flushed. "Y'know Miranda, your concern touches me, really, but, um, I already have a mother. Yeah, and I don't think she needs your help."

Miranda just calmly shrugged her shoulders. "No need to get defensive, Liz. I'm just saying."

"Just saying what? That I'm incapable of meeting new friends? Do you honestly think that?" That hurt.

Miranda shook her head, waving her hands in the air as if trying to brush off the whole thing. "No, no, no, that's not what I'm saying."

"Then what are you saying?" I pressed.

"Forget it."

"No," I wasn't gonna let her get away with this. "You brought it up. What are you saying?"

"No, I'm not gonna say. It's only gonna lead to another argument, and you have to get going or else you're gonna miss your flight."

"It's not gonna lead to another argument."

"We're already in an argument!"

"No we're not. Just tell me. I promise, I won't take offense. I promise."

She gave me a look.

I placed my hand over my heart. "I promise."

"Fine," she said, pointing a finger at me. "You promised."

I nodded.

"Well," she began. "I get worried, Liz."

I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion. "Worried? About what, 'Randa?"

She sighed. "Oh, Liz. You know how you get around boys." I started. "It's just not healthy!"

"There's nothing wrong with the way I deal with boys." I shot.

She raised her eyebrows. "You've only gone on one date in your entire life, Liz. And ever since then, you push guys away like they're the plague!"

"I do not."

"Yes, you do! No one even tries to ask you out here anymore 'cause they already know what the answer's gonna be."

"I resent that Miranda, I really do. You're lucky I even tried. You've seen our friend Kelly and the abusive relationship she's in. I've told you a million times, I will never be a victim to male pleasure!"

"You really think one date constitutes as trying? Are you an idiot? You have no idea what it's like to be in a real relationship with true companionship."

"Don't you preach to me, Miranda Sanchez. You don't have any idea what a real relationship feels like either."

"No I don't, but I know how it's supposed to work, which is more than I can say for you. Tell me, Liz, exactly what is it about finding your soulmate that's so scary it's not worth the effort? Is it that there might actually be someone perfect for you out there, and you don't have a choice as to who it is? Or is it that you might actually fall in love with someone besides yourself?"

"Where is all this coming from, Miranda? You're never this nasty."

She took a deep breath. "It's coming from a place I've been hiding for the past couple of years, Liz. And I'm sorry to unleash it all on you like this. I guess if you want to give up on love based on one lousy date, that's your decision to make. And I have to respect it."

"It is my decision to make, 'Randa. And I've made it. I just never thought I would need to explain to you of all people my reasons for it."

She nodded. "If you don't want to talk about what happened that night, I won't push it. But you gotta understand, Liz. You tell me everything. Everything. But you won't tell me this. What am I supposed to think?"

"Just trust me, 'Randa. Have a little faith in me. I know what I'm doing."

"I want to believe you, Liz. You know I do. But I also don't want to see you make a horrible mistake that leaves you unhappy for the rest of your life." She hugged me then. A true hug, a friendship hug. "Just be careful, Liz. Please?"

I nodded, hugging her back. I needed Miranda. I don't know how she could deny it, but I did. She is my best friend; leaving her didn't feel right.

"Ok," Miranda pulled away. "Now let's get you on your way!"

* * *

**ONE HOUR LATER, at Gordo's House**

I don't know why I was so surprised. Kyle had always been a jerk, he was known to be a jerk, but like this? I thought I knew him a little better than that. I slammed my trunk, having finished packing my last bit of luggage. I went inside to retrieve my keys, taking everything in one last time before I left to the airport.

I knew this whole Kyle thing was stupid and immature, and if I was totally honest with myself I knew I was just jealous. Kyle and I talked about going to Harvard together, me to go into filming, him to go into producing. We were gonna be the perfect power pair. We were gonna take Hollywood by storm. But when push came to shove, I chickened out, and he didn't.

Still, he didn't seem the slightest bit worried about it. As long as Kyle got what Kyle wanted, it didn't matter how anybody else felt. I must've not been that much of a friend to him in the first place.

With one final grunt, I turned my back on this place and started to my car. Gravity caught hold of me, however, and I toppled to the asphalt. Looking up at the clouds, I cursed my life. After a second, I brushed myself off and continued with my bruised ego, and what was left of my dignity. I took out my keys and put them in the lock. They turned, but the door wouldn't open. "Damn door!" I yelled. Struggling, I pushed the key a little further and the whole thing broke all together.

I glanced up to catch of glimpse of my neighbor staring through is garden window quite amused. Now I was furious. I kicked and scratched and punched at the door until, finally, it popped open. I climbed in, took out my pocket knife and started the car. At first the battery sputtered, but then I heard smoke blow out of the back with such force it took the bumper down with it.

And with that, I took off, the door still hanging wide open, the engine stuttering and dying, and my neighbor rolling on the ground laughing. I didn't care, though. I had a whole new life waiting for me in California. And I was never looking back.

* * *

**K. It's a bit different. But...in a good way? Maybe?**

**Let me know what you guys think! And happy late thanksgiving to everyone!**


	2. Getting to the Airport

**OPPOSITES ATTRACT**

**evilblackleprican**

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**CHAPTER TWO**

**Getting to the Airport**

* * *

It was official. I was in love with my brand-new little blue buggy. Racing down the highway with ease, wind whipping through my long blonde locks, I had a feeling I was gonna be able to make my flight. Which, in all reality, was a new accomplishment of sorts. I was never one to be punctual, but with my leaving late and still arriving on time, life was good.

It's funny how things seem to come together at the last minute. Miranda and I left on an excellent note, and I've never felt so much love from my family. And despite my extreme fear of the deathtrap more commercially known as the airplane, I was feeling great about this trip. Miranda was right, only good things could come from this.

I pulled up into the parking lot, making sure to park my baby with care. My parents wouldn't be able to ship the car to California for me for at least a week, so I wouldn't be seeing it again for awhile. This made me sad. "It's okay, baby," I petted. "We'll see each other again real soon. I'll miss you every second until then." I hugged her.

What? If you had to deal with The Car From Hell for two years like I had to, you'd be appreciative of your new car, too. I figured that if I started out good to her, logic only followed she would be good back. Think about it.

"Okay, baby, be good. Take care! Don't you let anybody hurt you!" I yelled before I started backing away. Not before I bumped into a big guy with a police uniform on, though. Oops.

"Good day, ma'am," the officer spat with a hint of annoyance. With his police glasses covering up half his face, I couldn't tell what kind of facial expression he had on. But I'm pretty sure whatever it was, it wasn't nice. Jeez, who crapped in his Cheerios?

Scared out of my mind, I greeted him back with as much enthusiasm as possible. "Good day, Officer..." I stole a glance at his badge, squinting my eyes a little in an attempt to read the tiny print "...Wagner."

"Vagner," he corrected.

"Vagner," I agreed, nodding my head violently. "Of course. Didn't I say that? I knew that."

My nerves were not helping the situation, and the more his unwavering stare (which I felt even through his dark shades) bore into me, the more my nerves threatened to boil out of control. He had me pegged to the spot, dammit. And it was starting to get very uncomfortable.

"Well," I cleared my throat. "It was nice meeting you. Really nice. I, uh, have a plane to catch though." He didn't budge a muscle. "So...uh...good day?" I started to walk away.

He caught my arm though and jerked me back around. This guy was turning into a real bully. "Didn't you forget something, ma'am?"

Confused, my eyes darted around. I checked anything I had on, anything I might have left in the car, then mentally gave the car a once-over. "Uhh..." I started slowly, "not that I know of, officer." He still wasn't saying anything though, and was starting to look at me like I was mentally retarded (which, by the way, I really didn't appreciate). So I asked for him, "What seems to be the problem?"

Obviously annoyed at my question, he scoffed and pointed at the toll meter, where my car was safely parked. Oh.

"Oh! I forgot to pay the toll, didn't I? I'm such a dunce sometimes. And a klutz at other times, but sometimes I'm both, but most of the time just a dunce. You know us blondes," I laughed. "Die-hard ditzy divas. Haha. Pathetic, really." What the hell was I saying? I had no idea, but I didn't want him to comment either so I just handed him the cash. "There's $7.50. That's what the sign said, so that's why I'm giving you $7.50. Um, thank you for pointing that out to me, officer. I could've been in some very serious trouble if you hadn't-"

"You said you were catching a flight."

"Huh?" I looked up at him. Or tried to, at least. I only had so much courage to work with at the moment. "Oh, yeah. My parents are gonna pick it up later this week. Y'know, we got it all worked out with the plane and car companies, so, yeah, nothing to worry about here. I'm completely legal." I smiled, but it somehow felt fake, even to me.

He, however, didn't even give a hint of a smile throughout this whole debacle, which I found odd since I still felt as if he might as well have been laughing at me. Really, I was just praying he would go away soon. I didn't know how much more of this humiliation I could take. Miranda always said I was a babble mouth when I got nervous. I guess she was right.

"Ma'am, if you're planning on shipping your car to another state, we have separate parking for that over there." He pointed to a big blue sign that said 'FOR CAR SHIPPING TO ANOTHER STATE'. Wow, maybe I really was a dunce. The jerk might be on to something.

Not sure what to say, or how to feel, I just shot him a sheepish grin. Y'know, in the off chance he decides to grow a heart and feel sorry for me.

He continued to stare at me, however, and I knew by now that he was waiting for me to make the next move. Sure, officer. Why not? "I'll just move my car, then, officer. Thanks for the tip." Not really.

"Too late," he barked, startling me and my nerves. "Your car's already parked. I'm afraid you'll have to pay out the rest of the toll meter until your parents can come and move it for you."

"What?" I screeched. But that's retarded! Wait, why am I saying this to myself? "But that's ridiculous!"

"I'm sorry you feel that way, ma'am. But rules are rules." Then, without a sorry bone in his body, he whipped out a calculator and notepad from his back pocket. The jerk, the bully. I've never truly hated someone before (although Kate came close), but I had a feeling pretty soon I was gonna know what it was like. "That comes to $425.12. In cash, please." It was then I understood why criminals commit murder.

In less than 2 seconds I went from sheepish Liz to furious Liz. And since I had never fully met furious Liz before (except in the rare occasions where a run-in with Matt would get under my skin), I was scared to know what her capabilities were. So, naturally, I decided to downplay my anger by turning it into the next best thing...

"But I don't have $425 in cash! I don't even have $25 in cash!" ...hysterical Liz. :)

"That'll be another ticket then, ma'am, which you can pay at your leisure by the end of the month."

"Look, officer, try to understand. This is my first trip on my own. I don't know what the hell I'm doing! Just cut me some slack, please?"

His face was stone. "Hard lessons are the easiest to learn, ma'am."

I sighed. "You're right, but you gotta admit. I mean, this is a little ridiculous. The parking lot's right over there! I can just move my car..."

"That's out of the question, ma'am."

"How is that out of the question?" I could feel my anger starting to boil over. This wasn't good. "My plane leaves in half an hour, I can't afford this ticket, and I am on my knees apologizing profusely for this mistake! And all I'm asking is if you would please let me move my car just a couple of feet."

"It's done, ma'am. You've made your decision."

"But I was distracted! It was a mistake! I'm an idiot!"

"We all have consequences for our actions, ma'am."

I burst. "I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY I CAN'T MOVE MY CAR! AND STOP CALLING ME MA'AM!"

"Ma'am. You need to calm down..."

"I NEED TO CALM DOWN? I NEED TO CALM DOWN?" What was happening to me? I was starting to scare myself. But I was starting to scare him, too. Maybe this was a good thing. "THIS IS BULLSHIT!" Maybe not.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry that..."

"I HAVE A NAME! IT'S ELIZABETH! AND STOP SAYING YOU'RE SORRY! Y'know, I was in such a good mood, too. I was more than willing to comply with whatever you needed me to do. BUT NOW YOU'VE TAKEN IT TOO FAR!"

"Ma'am, I'm an officer of the law, and I..."

"AM A BIG JERK!" I could feel a crowd starting to form, but I was way too passed sanity to care. "God, you just keep pushing and pushing. And I could expect it from any number of people, but not from a role model like you! I AM VERY DISAPPOINTED IN YOUR BEHAVIOR, SIR! Very disappointed."

"Ma'am..."

"ELIZABETH!"

"Elizabeth. Your melodramatic antics are not gonna work with me. I was trying to go easy on your ticket, but now I'm afraid I'm gonna have to double it."

Shit! Shut up, Elizabeth, just keep your mouth shut. "DON'T YOU DARE LIE TO ME, OFFICER VAGNER!" Oh, no. "Any fool knows that a $400 fine for parking your car in the wrong place, which by the way I told you was an accident, is not quote unquote 'taking it easy'!"

"$400! What kind of stunt are you trying to pull officer?" I heard a woman from behind me yell. Oh, I forgot people could hear me.

"Yeah! My cousin's in law enforcement, too, and I'm pretty sure that's not even legal!" I heard another woman yell.

Next, an older male. "Wait? All she did was park her car in the wrong place? What kind of bullshit is that?" I smiled at that one.

"Yeah, you have no authority to keep her from moving her car. And you definitely have no authority to be writing her a ticket for it."

The crowd kept murmuring and shouting their disapproval of Officer Vagner. And Officer Vagner, well, he was looking a little scared himself. And his vain attempts to get the crowd under control only seemed to make them grow angrier.

As for me, the clock was still ticking. I only had minutes to get out of this hot mess before all hope of catching my flight vanished.

Just then, someone came from behind me and grabbed my waist with one hand and my wrist with his other. The action sent an electric jolt through my body. Before I could look up at my perpetrator, he gently lowered his lips closer to my face, where I felt more than heard an attractive male voice flow soothingly into my ear. "If you're looking for your big chance to break free," he said. "I suggest you go now. The crowd's not gonna hold him much longer, and he can't write you up once your car's safely in the correct parking lot."

And with that, he was gone. The angel.

* * *

**TEN MINUTES EARLIER in David's car**

This was not good, this was not good. There I was, barely trudging along down the highway, cars honking at me, me honking back, them finally giving up and speeding past me, and my life was a complete hell-hole.

I could feel my plane ticket staring me down from where the corner of it peeked out from the glove compartment. Departure time: 12:00, it mocked. And guess what time it was? Angrily, I looked down at my watch cheerfully beeping the hour: 12:00. F my life! Damn Kyle. Damn him.

Swerving into the parking lot, I made it to a space seconds before my car finally gave up on life. Engine exhausted, tires wilted, good riddance! I slammed the door. Even that fell off.

I glanced at the time: 12:10. Hopefully, there would be another flight at 12:30, or if there was a God, at 12:45. Either way, I only had minutes to spare.

Quickly, I paid the stupid $7.50 toll the damn parking space was NOT worth, grabbed my luggage, and made a bolt for it. If there was one thing I knew better than the whole state of Florida, it was the goddamn airport. After years of being dragged to all my parents' seminars and business meetings, the airport became a secondary home for me. And not one minute of it do I recall being even remotely enjoyable. I hate the airport. But I hate Florida even more. I was glad to be leaving this place after all.

Before I could even enter a terminal, however, something peculiar caught my eye. There was a riot of sorts, all huddled around a small blonde and a police officer. That's another thing. I hate police officers at the airport. I wondered what kind of ridiculous foolishness they were trying to pull now. Curiosity got the better of me, and I went over to investigate.

It didn't take long to find out what was going on. The little blonde already got the crowd all riled up, and they were shouting some pretty ugly stuff in her defense. I laughed. She must've been a little spitfire in action. I would have loved to have seen that.

I listened some more. Apparently, this guy was gonna charge her $400 for parking in the wrong spot. Good Lord, that's a lot of money. She was so close to getting off spot clean though, I had an urge to help her. Then, I saw my chance. The crowd was holding the guy's attention, but she seemed to be glued to the spot. What was wrong with her? Didn't she see that this was her chance?

Leaving my luggage behind in the middle of the road, I skipped up behind her not really realizing what little space I left between us. But I was in too much of a hurry to care. "If you're looking for your big chance to break free, I suggest you go now." I felt her stiffen under my touch, but my brain didn't recognize this until later. So I pressed on, "The crowd's not gonna hold him much longer, and he can't write you up once you're car's safely in the correct parking lot."

At once my conscience cleared, and I realized quickly that I needed to get a move on. "Good luck," I muttered as I sped away, but doubt she heard it. No time to look back, though. I needed to get this whole ticket thing straightened out. I prayed to the heavens above. I really needed to catch this flight.

* * *

**FROM WHERE WE LEFT OFF with Elizabeth**

I didn't need to be told twice. Quickly, I raced to my driver door and pulled it open. As soon as I started my engine, I heard the police jerk shouting protests just outside my car door window. There was no way I was stopping now.

Burning rubber, I backed out of my space and sped through to the safety of the car shipping parking lot. As I slowly got out of my baby, I stole a quick glance in the jerk's direction. To my satisfaction, he was steaming mad. And the crowd, satisfied as well, dispersed as soon as they saw that justice had been achieved.

I glanced down at my watch. 12:20. Yes! I was gonna be able to make my 12:55 flight after all.

* * *

**TEN MINUTES LATER at the ticket counter with David**

"I'm sorry, sir. The next flight from here to Los Angeles is at 12:55. Unless you want a connecting flight."

I muttered curses to myself. "And just how is a connecting flight gonna get me to California any faster? Aren't you listening? I need to check in my dorm room no later than 6:00pm or else I lose my spot. You're telling me the arrival time of the 12:55 flight is 5:55pm! There's no way I'm gonna be able to get to my dorm room in five minutes!"

"I'm sorry, sir, but you should have thought of that before you missed your first flight. I wish there was more I could do. The next flight is at 12:55. Take it or leave it."

This day couldn't possibly get any worse. "Fine. I'll take it." I threw her the ticket. It's not like I needed that specific room anyway, now that I didn't have a specific roommate to share it with. Damn Kyle. Damn him.

The flight attendant handed me my new ticket, and shot me a curt smile. Grumpily, I snatched the thing from her and stalked off. In the back of my mind, I was sorry for being in such a crabby mood, but I was too sick of this day to put forth any effort into making it better.

As I waited in line to go through security, I thought about how much I also hated security lines. How ridiculous. There's got to be a more efficient way to check everyone's belongings without forcing them to put everything they own into bins. And the metal detector? I scoffed. What a joke ours was. It should have been replaced years ago. If any terrorists make it onto the plane, I will openly blame that faulty metal detector.

There was a big black woman in front of the bin station, yelling at everyone to take off "hats, belts, shoes. And please take any electronics out of their cases. Thank you."

I proceeded to follow suit despite how foolish I felt stripping off personal items with the rest of the populace. My keys jingled beside me and I instantly recognized their melody. Before I placed them in the bin with the rest of my belongings, I snatched off one key chain in particular. It had a small metal ball attached to the end of it, and it's existence symbolized the great friendship between me and Kyle. Think science fair project, 7th grade. By luck of the draw we were paired together, and here we were.

Guess I wasn't gonna need that anymore. I threw the thing on the ground, and watched it bounce away. Damn Kyle. Damn him.

* * *

**MEANWHILE with Elizabeth**

As I entered through the automatic doors, a rush of conditioned, cool air enveloped my body, and the feeling was instantly refreshing. I was feeling quite proud of myself. Who would have thought the sweet and innocent Elizabeth McGuire would have had to run from the cops? And who would have thought she'd succeed as well? I was a fugitive of sorts. I had gotten away with murder, kinda. And what was even more satisfying, was that I, Elizabeth Brooke McGuire, was beginning to think that I could actually pull this off.

I made my way over to the ticket counter, handed them my luggage, and then walked on to the security line. The lines seemed to be more packed than normal today. Ugh, this is gonna take forever, I thought. I looked down at my watch. 12:30. With any luck, hopefully I'd be fine.

Just then, I felt something light softly bump my foot. Looking down, the shiny metal object caught my eye. I bent down to pick it up. It was a keychain, with a crisp silver ball attached to the end of it. The thing was small and slight, but it was breathtaking. Without thinking, I bagged the keepsake in my pocket. I took it as a token of good luck. It had to be.

* * *

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REMEMBER TO FLAME OR REVIEW! A big thank you in advance!**


	3. Plane Wars, Part 1

**OPPOSITES ATTRACT**

**evilblackleprican**

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE**

**Plane Wars, Part 1**

* * *

"Last call for Flight 397!"

"Here! I'm here! I'm coming! Don't leave!"

Pushing through the crowd, running to the gate, I finally arrived at the the boarding entrance. The flight attendants grimaced slightly, but I didn't care. I was too out of breath to care. I did it. I made it through the security lines and hell. Now, the only thing I was looking forward to doing these next five hours was relaxing. I needed a nap. Very bad.

Handing the flight ladies my ticket, they scanned me right in. "Enjoy your flight, Mr. Gordon."

I smiled back. "Thank you very much ladies." They blushed, but I didn't really notice.

Briskly, I walked onto the plane and to my seat. B47. Man! I wanted the window seat! Maybe I could trade with A47. I looked around. A47 was not in sight.

I prayed that whomever A47 was hated plane windows and would be willing to switch with me. Take pity on a man, for crying out loud! Quickly, I started planning out my sob story. Maybe I could just tell A47 I had a heart condition that needed...what? What did it need? Air? Heights? Looking out over the sunset? There was no way that was believable. But, as I continued to look around, A47 remained vacant.

What if A47 never showed up? The thought made me giddier than expected. That meant I could enjoy the whole plane ride with absolutely NO disturbances, AND the window seat, AND the row to myself, AND I wouldn't have to finish my idiotic sob story. I was never one for creating stories in the first place. Silly stuff, really, fiction. All those plots and characters and happy endings. The thought made me sick.

Oh my god, I was turning into Scrooge! And it was still at least six months before Christmas. I changed my mind. I needed a nap, and a view, and no one was taking that from me! And no one should dare try! My heart was set on no one claiming seat A47. With any luck, hopefully they had better things to do at the moment, anyway.

* * *

**A FEW MINUTES EARLIER with Elizabeth**

"What would I be doing with military grade-A explosives?" And just like that, I was back to having the worst day ever.

The security guard dangled the stupid metal ball in front of my eyes. That's the last time I pick up keepsakes off the floor. Stupid goddamn ball. In seconds, that pesky silver nuisance had managed to ruin my entire life. I couldn't believe I was being accused of terrorism. Me! A terrorist! Can you imagine? I didn't see a way out of this one. Where was my angel? Maybe I used mine all up for today.

"Look, I'm telling you. That ball isn't mine!"

"It was with your stuff," he countered.

"Yes, I realize that. But it's not mine. Just before I got into the line, I found it on the floor. I liked it, so I kept it. If I knew that it would have trace amounts of explosives on it, obviously I wouldn't have picked it up!"

"Ms. McGuire, you're making this very difficult for me." Good. "I wanna believe you, I do. But we have no proof that you didn't have anything to do with this."

Is he stupid? I just told him I was innocent! "Well, then, how about this? If I knew that I had a ball that contained military explosives, would I place it in a security bin for all to see? I'd like to think I'm a bit more intelligent than that. I wasn't hiding anything, and I've been honest throughout this whole thing. Isn't that proof enough that I'm innocent?" Again, keyword: IN-NO-CENT.

At that moment, a woman burst through the door and into the room. This room that I was pushed into as soon as that faulty metal detector went crazy. I was instantly seized by five large men who slapped handcuffs on me and escorted me as if I was hostile. Innocent until proven guilty? Yeah, right. I always loved the airport, but they were making it very difficult for me to continue to do so. Stupid people. Always ruining everything!

"Jerry, I need to talk to you." Jerry, as his name seemed to be, got up and went over to her. They closed the door behind them, and on the other side I heard them whispering frantically. They were probably deciding which prison to send me to first. Tears welled in my eyes. I wanted to go home. Forget this trip, forget this scholarship. Obviously, I was never meant to go to UCLA. Miranda should have listened to me.

Jerry walked back in and sat down. He was silent for a few moments. I could tell by the nervous look on his face that he didn't know how to proceed, and I couldn't stand it. I hated this. I hated being accused of criminal activity, especially since I was innocent! Keyword: IN-NO-CENT. But people were gonna look at me like I was guilty from now on. He was right, I didn't have any concrete proof. I might as well get used to it. I sighed. "So what happens now?"

"I-uh." He started. He looked confused. Hell, _I_ was confused. And his bald spot was reflecting light into my eye, which was really starting to piss me off. "I want to apologize for all this, Ms. McGuire." He leaned forward and un-cuffed me. This surprised me. But I was still angry and confused. Did I accidentally fall asleep? Was this a dream? "It seems our machines made a very serious mistake. Your metal ball," he handed back to me, "is clean. You're free to go."

What? Free? What did that mean? I didn't move. I was shocked. IN-NO-CENT? But I had just gotten used to being guilty. Wait, I was free? My brain was processing a million emotions at once. I wasn't sure how to react. And my body was even more confused as how to follow.

"You're plane is still grounded," he continued. "I'll hold it for you until you safely arrive on board. Have a nice flight, ma'am. I'm truly sorry." And with that, he ducked out of the office.

Oh, now he's sorry. After all that? What a jerk! What the hell kind of soap opera had my life just become?

* * *

**BACK ON THE PLANE with David**

I couldn't believe my luck. Every seat on the plane had been accounted for, filled, except for the one next to me. I didn't start celebrating just yet, though. The plane was still grounded, and the boarding tunnel was still open.

"Hurry up, hurry up." I breathed. "Close the damn doors." We were minutes behind schedule, and as every second ticked, I got more and more nervous. "Don't let anyone else on, don't let anyone else on," I silently prayed.

Just then, I heard the latch click signifying that the boarding doors were officially closed. Yes! I rejoiced, throwing my hands up in the air. The old couple behind me gasped audibly at my display. I was over it. My heart was bursting with excitement. What luck! Then, what luck.

As the new passenger bustled her way down the aisle towards me, I felt my chest being slowly deflated. She was escorted by a couple of security guards, who she then chose to snap at. "Get away from me! I don't need your help getting to my seat, thank you very much."

She was small and petite. Her hair was long and blonde, and her features were delicate and feminine. She might have even been considered pretty if she wasn't sporting that angry scowl on her face. I scoffed at that. I really wasn't much for blondes anyway. All the blondes I'd ever met were all the same, and this one didn't seem to be any different.

I laid back in my chair and closed my eyes. Maybe if I pretended I was asleep, she wouldn't bother me. "Look!" I could still hear her screeching voice. It was quite irritating. "I'm here. I'm at my seat. You can go now." I could just picture her in my mind, waving the guards away with her nose in the air as if they were her servants. Man, I couldn't stand people like that. They treated the whole world as if they should worship the ground they walked on. Let's hope she didn't turn her snobby little attitude my way. I was no kiss-ass.

I could hear her struggling to stuff her bags away in the top cabin. I rolled my eyes inside my closed lids. Maybe you shouldn't have packed so much if you knew you could barely carry it. This girl was just oozing superficialness, and I was reaching my wit's end.

Turning my back on her, I tried desperately to fall asleep in the next few seconds. Lord knows what kind of attitude I would unleash on her if she threw even two words at me. My parents being rich folk themselves, I had very little tolerance for the kind. They were all the same, preoccupied with one thing and one thing only: how to become even more rich. And secondly, how to let the world know they were.

For people like that, they didn't have time for anything else. If they missed their child's 10th birthday party, it was okay because they left an expensive toy in their place. If they promised to attend their boy's basketball game, they didn't have to because an important meeting came up. Every meeting was important to rich people, every phone call, every party, every trip, everything except anything having to do with their own son.

Their son that they could just leave behind and not feel guilty because they fixed him up in a huge mansion. Their son, who's school plays and high school graduations weren't worth the effort in attending. Their son, who they figured was strong enough on his own to forgo love and family. Their son, who they didn't even know because jetting off to foreign lands and meeting foreign people and buying foreign things was always the number one thrill in life. Selfish bastards. I hate rich people, and I hate airports.

* * *

**MOMENTS EARLIER with Elizabeth**

Finally making it to my seat, I was able to shake off all the remaining security guards Jerry stuck on me. For all intents and purposes, he was trying to be helpful. But honestly, security guards were the last thing I wanted to be around that second. For good reason, too.

A47. Oh, good. A window seat. Exactly what I needed to relax.

Struggling to open the top cabin, I looked around for anyone who would be kind enough to give me a hand with my carry-ons. The guy, with whom I presumed would be sharing my row for the next few hours, softly turned his back to me, seemingly at my silent call for help. I rolled my eyes, trying to keep my irritation at bay. Who the hell was this guy?

Looking around, it was obvious that no one else was in the mood to help me either. Well, no one that could anyway. Too young, too old, too short, too pristine. The only guy who seemed to be in the exact physical condition required to lift my bags was currently sleeping...wait a minute.

Slightly hunching over his aisle seat, studying his eyelids for a few seconds, it dawned on me. _Oh my gosh! The jerk was fake sleeping! Seriously? What a...what a..._there were no words! There's no doubt he knew exactly what was going on here. And he just didn't want to help me. Well, fine. I didn't need the bastard's help.

More angrily, I started shoving my bag into the cabin. It wasn't fitting! What kind of stuff did this guy fill OUR cabin with? I glanced at his face once again. Who the hell did he think he was fooling? I grew up a with a brother who lived for these kinds of stunts! Fine. If he wanted to play this game, I'll play too.

Grabbing all his bags from the top cabin, I dumped them on the floor. He was still _sleeping_ of course. Satisfied, I gently placed my carry-ons in their rightful place. See? It was soo much roomier now.

Now, second obstacle, getting to my seat. At the head of the plane, I could tell the flight attendants were silently annoyed that it was taking me so long to get situated. I guess Jerry told them to be patient with me. That almost made me feel bad. I really needed to not make everyone wait on me.

But, besides my best intentions, it wasn't my fault! The liar had his long arms and legs sprawled in every direction, successfully blocking any chance at getting to my window seat. I was annoyed at this guy, sure, but I also was too drained of energy to fight with him. So, as best for all parties involved, I'd kindly let him _sleep_. If I could just crawl over him, I'd be fine. I was almost a cheerleader that one time...I could do this.

* * *

**SECONDS LATER with David**

The rustling had stopped. I guess the snob finally found a place for her bags. Relieved, I sighed back into my chair. At least now I could calmly enjoy the plane ride from here on out...and NOT think about best friends, lost dorm rooms, or even ghost parents.

All of a sudden, I felt weight on body. No, my thighs. Wait, _what the hell_? Cracking my eyes open, the little minx had her legs straddling mine! And wait, she also had her hands to my chest, seemingly to steady herself.

I felt her body shift. She knew I was staring at her. As if to confirm, she slowly lifted her head. Her eyes found mine, and we both flipped into a fit of panic.

"What the hell are you doing on me, lady?"

"Me? I'm just trying to get to my seat! What are you doing?"

We both went into 'detangle' mode. But everytime I tried to shove her away, she would lose balance and fall right into my lap again. What a klutz! And her panic wasn't helping the situation, either.

"Don't you touch me! I'll call security!"

"Get to your seat and I won't have to!"

Grabbing her from the sides, I tried to push her across. But, at the same time, she would try to push herself off my chest before she steadied her legs. The movements kept throwing her off-balance, but I didn't care. I wanted the snob off of me!

"Stop shoving me!"

"Stop pushing me!"

"Stop yelling at me!"

"No, you stop yelling!"

"Ugh, why are your legs so big?"

"Why are YOU so big?"

Her eyes widened and she snorted. "Don't be an asshole."

"Don't be a bitch!"

"Is there a problem here?" the flight attendant intervened.

Huffing, we both glared at her. "NO!"

Holding her nose high, the girl finally swung her leg over, plopped down in her chair, and snapped her seatbelt together. "We can go now," she sniffed at the flight lady, who didn't quite know what to make of the situation.

I nodded at her, and, sensing there was no further conflict, she went to relay the news. I stole a glance at the blonde on my left. I had a feeling I was going to be seeing a lot more of her snobbish antics before the plane landed. Lucky me.

* * *

**SECONDS LATER with Elizabeth**

Bitch! He called me a bitch! It occurred to me that I'd never been called a bitch before. Well, by anyone besides Kate and Miranda (who I didn't count anyway for obvious reasons.) I knew I should've been feeling a little more insulted, but honestly, I was kind of proud of it. It gave Elizabeth Brooke McGuire an edge, something not to be trifled with.

Wow. Up until this point I had been accused of being a felon, a terrorist, and now I can add bitch to that list as well. And all in one day, too! Okay, maybe I shouldn't be too proud of that. But, hey, come on, I had street cred now. How cool was that? I'm such a dork.

Within the next second, I felt the plane slowly backing up. _Oh, my gosh. This was it. I was leaving Florida forever! There was no turning back!_ No, I mean really. I said that before, but, now it was real!

For some odd reason, I pulled that damned metal ball out of my pocket. I couldn't believe Jerry let me keep it. You know, since it wasn't a bomb and all. And although I wanted to hate it, I couldn't. It was too beautiful.

Holding in front of me, I sighed. Life in California. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all.

"WHERE'D YOU GET THAT?" I heard the boy yell beside me. Before I could answer he snatched the ball away from my hands and gripped it tightly in his fists.

"Hey!" I protested but he ignored me. God, was he trying to solidify my budding hatred towards him? Jerk! Jerk! Jerk! Jerk! Jerk! Jerk! That's about all that came to mind now.

"What do you think you're doing? Give me that back!"

"It's mine!" he snarled.

I glared at him. "Oh, because it came from my pocket and all. Yeah, totally makes sense."

He glared back. "Don't you dare try and be sarcastic with me, lady. I promise, you'll lose."

"You give me that ball back," I clipped, "and I promise not to get in your way the entire rest of the flight. And that's because I don't even like you that much."

He smirked at me, then slowly shook his head. And I didn't like it. And to make matters worse, my female senses were starting to tingle. In the presence of him! _NO WAY_...I was _SOOO_ not gonna let that happen!

This was the most infuriating boy I've ever met. A Matt...times ten! And, believe me, I did NOT think that was possible. But, man, I wanted my ball back! "Give me the ball."

"You can't have it."

"Give me the ball!"

"It's not yours."

"_Give me the ball!_"

"It's mine!"

"Give me-" I lunged. But he kept it out of my reach. The bastard.

"Get off of me!"

"Give me my ball!"

"Are you crazy, lady? The plane is about to take off!"

"Thief!"

"Sit down!"

"My name is not lady!"

"Oh my god! You're such a psycho!"

And then, I could feel the plane lift into the air. I gulped.

* * *

**THAT INSTANT with David**

The plane lifted, and she stopped. It was like magic.

The plane lifted higher, and she froze. Still on me, of course. Oh my god, please, someone get her off. She was the most annoying, self-centered person I'd ever met, and I absolutely wanted nothing to do with her! And she stole my metal ball!

Then, out of nowhere, shutting her eyes she shoved her face into my shoulder, squeezing the circulation out of my arm. Literally. Umm...personal boundaries? Yeah, obviously, this girl had none.

"I'm gonna die! I'm gonna die! I'm gonna die!" I could hear her muttering into my neck. That struck me. All of a sudden, I was back to my first plane ride. One of the only "firsts" in which my parents were actually present. I could hear myself muttering those exact same words as the plane took off. My dad didn't take kindly to his son being weak, though.

Awkwardly, I tried placing my hand on her shoulder. She was shaking. She was so frightened. I kinda felt bad for her. _Kinda._ It only reminded me of my inexperience with women though. Personally, I blame it on an all-boys boarding school. But it infuriated me that I didn't know how to do the simplest things with women, like calm one of them down. Therefore, the lady next to me might as well have been an alien. At least, that's what she was to me.

Not knowing what to do, or what to say, I just held her until the plane levelled out. As the flight became smoother, though, my nerves went the opposite way. Jeez, what was she doing to me? Just being near this woman was sparking an emotionally-charged roller coaster straight through my heart. And I really didn't need to be around that right now.

As soon as her head popped up, and her eyes went searching for mine, I quickly made my exit straight to the bathroom. I did _not_ want to hear _anything_ she had to say to me. Nor did _I_ feel like saying _anything_ that I wanted to say to her. Especially that whole part about her making me uncomfortable. Man, maybe I was losing my mind. This woman was driving me absolutely crazy!

* * *

**A FEW SECONDS LATER with Elizabeth**

This guy was driving me absolutely crazy! And not in a good way.

What the hell just happened? _Did I really just do that?_ Did I really just bury my entire body into his? For like the third time since we've met? What on earth was wrong with me? Just because I've never been with a guy...I gasped. I heard about signs like this. About how your body subliminally tells you what it wants...or needs. I gasped again. Damned hormones.

No! Not him! _ESPECIALLY_ not him! A complete stranger, to be quite frank. We'd only known each other a few minutes. Well, "known of" each other would probably be a more apt description.

Oh, god. He probably thought I was a lunatic! Well, no, I already knew he thought I was a lunatic. I vaguely remembered him screaming it quite a few times. Within minutes, I heard his footsteps reapproaching, and I quickly straightened myself out as if nothing too weird had just happened. Maybe if I was lucky he wouldn't mention it. Like, I looked at my watch, for the next four and a half hours.

"Okay, what the hell was that?"

Maybe not.

* * *

**THAT INSTANT with David**

Believe it or not, I really didn't intend to just spit it out like that. From what I do know about women is that you have to treat them with calm and respect, deliberately and delicately, like a flower...

"Well, are you gonna answer me or keep gaping like a fish?"

...so not how I was handling her right now.

As if on cue, she stuck her nose into the air, folded her elbows, and stared sharply out the window. How unsurprising. "I don't know what you're referring to."

It was obvious she wasn't going to respond to anything I was going to say next, so I dangled the ball in front of her face instead. "How about for a Klondike bar? Would you know then?"

She gritted her teeth and slowly turned her head back to me. "As much as I would love to continue playing this game with you, I do have more important things to accomplish on this plane ride that doesn't include babysitting an overgrown two-year-old."

"Well," I sighed, taking my seat, "speaking of overgrown two-year-olds."

Her eyes squinted. She could have been a pug in another life, maybe this life too. "Look, I don't know what your problem is," she exploded. _Definitely a pug_, "or why you've had it out for me since we met, but I don't care! If you want to sit there, and brood, and sulk, and hate me for whatever the case, you can do it. Just so long as you leave me the hell alone!"

"Oh, really? Hate? Yes, I'm glad you finally put a label on it, lady, because that's exactly what it is. I hate you and your lifestyle! I hate everything you represent! I hate your snobbish attitude, I hate your hair color, and most of all, I hate-wait a minute-is that my luggage on the floor?"

"My name is not lady! And, wait, everything I represent? Who the hell do you think you are to judge _me_? You don't even know _me_!"

"Who dumps somebody's luggage on the floor?"

"Just so you know, I've been having the worst day of my life. I've left my home for good, all of my friends and family to go to college in California. I've given up everything, and all I want is just some time to mend. But no..."

"I can't believe you dumped my luggage on the floor."

"...the world doesn't want Elizabeth Brooke McGuire to be happy. The world wants to accuse Elizabeth Brooke McGuire of felonies and terrorism-" There were quite a few gasps on the plane at that. _Idiot, can't say that word during a flight._ "-and now, the world wants to pit Miss Elizabeth Brooke McGuire against another Matt..."

"I can't believe you're referring to yourself in the third person." I looked her in the eye, "All my suspicions have been solidly confirmed."

"...the evil twin of Matt!" she continued, without missing a beat, "And Matt was already evil!"

"Who the hell is Matt? Really," I shook my head, "I can't take you seriously when you're bringing people into the conversation that don't even exist."

"He does exist! He's my brother!"

"Ah, that explains it. So you _do_ know what I'm going through."

"Ugh!" She was absolutely disgusted with me. And the feeling was quite satisfying, and very much mutual. "I hate you. I can't believe I'm actually hating you as much as I'm hating you right now! That's how much you make me hate you!"

"You're picking my luggage back up." And with that, I darted straight to the bathroom again.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going! You can't walk away from this! _Get back here!_" she said, undoing her seat belt, screeching after me. "_I'm not done hating you, yet!_"

"Yes, dear. Hate you, too!" I yelled back at her before ducking into a vacant stall.

All the while, the whole of our fellow passengers stared at us in shock, attendants included. Well, except for the old couple sitting behind us who were consequently snickering at our actions. Like they knew exactly what was going on. Like they knew something I didn't.

* * *

**I know, I know. I didn't post last Sunday, but since I posted two chapters in one week, I figured I was allowed. Maybe? Eh, what can I say? Finals. But at least they're over now! Whoo-hoo!**

**THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to all who reviewed the last two chaps! You seriously do not know how happy it makes me to know that someone is actually reading this! Hugs and kisses.**

**REMEMBER TO FLAME OR REVIEW! ****And here's some happy holiday cheer!**


	4. Plane Wars, Part 2

**OPPOSITES ATTRACT**

**evilblackleprican**

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR**

**Plane Wars, Part 2**

* * *

**I want to dedicate this chapter to AllisonCooper for being my 100TH REVIEWER, and leaving me the sweetest review I've received in a while. I hope you understand how much that meant to me. Thanks so much!**

**NOW, DARE WE AIM FOR 200? It's up to you guys. But as always, enjoy!**

* * *

"Okay, now. I think you both need to sit there and think about what you've done."

"He started it," I hissed under my breath. And he totally did! Seconds after our last argument, the rest of the passengers didn't seem to care for the disturbance we were making, so they had the flight attendants intervene. Seriously, this was so embarrassing. I mean, unlike the jerk on my right, _I_ wasn't one for embarrassment. (Although, truthfully, my actions _might_ have spoken otherwise.) Yeah, don't pay too much attention me, and focus more on this piece of wasted space:

"B-but she dumped my luggage! And took my metal ball!" His eyes were lit with accusation. Pity, he would've had such nice eyes otherwise.

"Wha-no. Excuse me, he stole my metal ball, and the luggage, well..." _Crap._ Quick, think of something that'll make me look good. "He wouldn't help me with it! He knew I was too weak to lift all those bags on my own. I tried to put them all back, but they were too heavy. It's like he stuffed them with weights or something. Seriously, I..."

The flight attendant, Gabby I think her nametag spelled out, bent over and lifted one of the bags, with one arm, no problem. _Damn!_

"See, ma'am," the guy next to me said suavely. Trying to work his charms on the flight attendant? _Oh, brother._ "The young woman next to me is obviously delusional, and I think it would be best for everybody if she were transferred to a part of the plane where she could be kept under close watch, just at least until we touch ground again." Uck! What a prick. The prickiest prick _I'd_ ever met. "Because between me and you Gabby," Gabby leaned in, transfixed by the most insane string of words ever to come from a pig's mouth, "I'm seriously worried about her. I wouldn't want any harm to come of her. I'd never forgive myself."

If I wasn't being held under close watch right now, I would have so loved to punch his snug face right in. _Right in!_

"Okay, can I just say something? This is absolutely ridiculous. I'm not a delusional maniac, despite what my _friend_ here is leading you to believe. Look, Gabby." She turned to me, but I could tell automatically that these next few sentences better be damn convincing. "I've had the worst day of my life. You can't even imagine. And the worst part is it's not even over yet. So, please, I'm begging you. I don't want to cause any more trouble, I swear. I just...I wanna sit here. See? Like this. Just sit here, and relax. And that's ALL I wanna do. I promise."

Gabby eyed me suspiciously, then eyed the demon next to me. Well, more ogled anyway. I think I was gonna hurl. "Fine. But if I hear one more outburst, out of any _one_ of you," she was looking pointedly at me, "the proper authorities will have to intervene, and fine you both on the charge of public disturbance. Is that clear, ma'am?"

"Yes," I nodded. "Quite."

"Sir?" she asked a little more breathy.

He nodded. "Crystal."

She briefly nodded her head, satisfied with our answers...for now. "Good. Now, would you like some refreshments?" And within seconds she had transformed herself back into the proper hostess as per her job. And they thought _I_ was the psycho. I can't believe what I'm having to deal with right now. "We have-"

* * *

**TWO HOURS LATER with David**

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. This _had_ to be the longest plane ride of my life, and it was only halfway over! Only two more hours and I would be exonerated from this hell.

Shifting stiffly in her seat next to me, the young woman I was completely at odds with stared out her window calmly. Pfft. And it would've been _my_ window too. If only _she_ had not shown up. If only _I_ had made my original flight. Damn.

Then, something strange occurred to me. I realized, staring at her soft blonde hair and catching the light of her hazel eyes, that just maybe there was more to her than she was letting on. Not that I really cared, of course. But honestly, I couldn't take much more of this uncomfortable silence, even though I was quite tired. But I definitely wasn't gonna sit there two more hours like that either. Ech. Best get this over with.

"So, uh," I started slowly, not sure if she could exactly hear my mumbles or not, "uh...your name's Elizabeth?"

She didn't respond to me at first. And I would've preferred she kept it that way if all she had to say was, "Don't start with me."

"Umm...okay?" I couldn't decipher what she meant by her response, and what's strange is that bothered me. "I don't understand—" She whipped her head around quicker than I thought possible. Crazy.

And then, she went off. "No, I don't wanna have coffee. Or a bite to eat. Or _anything_ that requires _me_ having to talk to _you_ for another second!" She took a dramatic deep breath before continuing, "I am currently having the worst day of my life, which somehow keeps eluding you even though I've brought it up more than once-"

"Twice." It was a pet peeve of mine, really, when someone was arguing with false facts. It's the least they could do, I reasoned.

She, on the other hand, didn't seem to agree. "_Ugh!_ You see? I don't know what your problem is, but _please_ just leave me alone, and stop hitting on me!" With that, she turned her back on me with a finality that was staggering. Good thing, too, because I probably would have not been able to restrain my urge to choke her.

"You conceited little-" I hissed. "_Hitting on you?_ Okay, now I _know_ you're delusional."

She turned back. "Oh, yeah? Coming from the person who is trying to act like the last couple of hours didn't just happen?" She rolled her eyes. "Please."

What the hell was she talking about? "You're a piece of work, you know that? A piece of work!" I glared down at her. "And for your information, trying to establish some civility between us, which I now know is quite impossible, is not by any definition of the phrase, _hitting on you_."

She scoffed at that. "_Civility?_ That's the only thing you expected to happen between us? How innocent. You don't actually think I'm going to believe that, do you?"

I blinked. "Don't you _dare_ try to insinuate that my intentions are any more than what they were. Trust me when I say, girl, that you'll be playing with fire!" My voice was low and hoarse, with the goal of trying to conjure up imminent danger on her part. It was obviously lost on her, though.

She crossed her arms in defiance. She was not intimidated by me at all, depite being half my size too, and that in itself was quite unnerving. "I know how guys work, okay? I _do_ have a brother."

"Okay, seriously," I bursted. "You need much more help than I realized. Like, I'm talking serious therapy." I chuckled some more.

She was more angry at the fact that I wasn't taking her seriously, I could tell. But come on, how was I supposed to when she was just too dramatic about everything? I mean, to the point that it was just comical? Seriously, do you really respect a chihuahua any more after you hear it bark? No.

"No guy ever talks to a girl without wanting something in return. And I'm just telling you you won't be getting anything from me." I hated the way she stated hypothetical situations like they were predetermined facts. What arrogance.

"Except repulsion," I muttered under my breath. She decided to ignore my comment, but I wasn't done just yet. "Shows a lot about the people _you_ hang out with."

"_Whoa, whoa, whoa!_" she screeched. That got her attention, I snorted. "The friends _I_ hang out with, who are _amazing_ by the way, are none of your business."

Though I highly doubted her statement about having friends, I was way past the point of arguing incessantly with her. It was way more entertaining to just mess with her instead.

"Then why did you bring them up?"

Her face scrunched. "Why did I bring who up?"

"These great people that flutter to your attentions."

"They do not flutter-" she spit, but I cut her off.

"What makes them _so_ great anyways? I mean, besides feeding your very serious condition of conceited paranoia."

A fire lit in her eyes. _OOo_, that struck a nerve. "You don't know anything about me."

"But in this, you just told me," I stated innocently. "You very clearly stated that a girl cannot be in a guy's presence without turning their brains into pornograhic mush."

"Wha-no. I didn't-okay, not EVERY girl," she stammered.

"Oh, just you, then? Millions of girls on the planet, and _you're_ the only exception? I gotta tell you, you're argument's not making much sense at this point."

She was going to retort, I could tell, but then she didn't. Giving me a look, she slowly started laughing instead. I was riddled with confusion. "Oh," she said, pointing a finger at me, "I see what's going on here. You don't fool me for a second."

Oh boy, did I want to hear this. This ought to be good. "Really?" I said, egging her on.

She laughed, grabbing a magazine from the chair pocket in front of her. "Yea, really. I make a simple statement pointing out that _some _guys will generally _only _talk to a girl for _one _reason-"

"See, now you're just subliminally changing your argument," I said, throwing my hands up in the air.

She gave me a pointed look as she began flipping through the pages of the magazine. "The only reason you're being so defensive is because you know it's true, and your fragile male ego just can't handle it. So, in response, you twist my words around in order to turn this argument around on me. As if I'm the one with the problem."

The last sentence she whispered more to herself, but what did that matter? Her condescension was unbelievable, it was almost unbearable! You see, I have categories that generally fit the women I meet. Usually, there's three: triple-A, triple-B, triple-C. Let me explain.

Triple-A's are what I consider girlfriend types. You know, wifey material: ambitious, affable, and affectionate. Triple-C's are the great girls that really shine as awesome go-to friends: comfortable, cute, and cuddly. I've had most end up in this category.

This woman scored a solid triple-B in my book, the worst kind: bitchy, bratty, and bitter. They were the sort of women that started drama in every life they deigned to touch. The sort of women who were _so _insecure in their own skin, despite being absolutely gorgeous. The sort of woman who was currently giving me a serious look to kill.

They were the sort of women who reminded me of my mother, and I could feel myself starting to loathe this one in a similar vein. "Okay, so let's recap. _I_ try to make peace, _you_ turn it into a sexual scheme on _my_ part, and then claim that the _entire_ male sex is out to get into _your_, and ONLY _your_ pants. Hmm, it's weird, but I somehow find this very doubtful. I don't know about you, but I would say maybe _I'm_ not the one with the problem."

"Oh, spare me," she said, continuing to let out very weird guttural sounds in an attempt to vocalize her very negative opinion of me. "You're not gonna own up to hitting on me now that I've fervently rejected you."

"Honey, please," I drawled, "You have to give me a little more credit than that. There's no way I would ever be _that_ desperate."

She gasped and slapped my arm. I didn't mind, though; I was feeling quite mutually irritated with her as well. Even _thinking_ that this person was capable of holding a rational, mature conversation was a grave mistake on my part. I was perhaps better off napping the rest of the way. _You just can't reason with a pighead!_

"This coming from a guy who fake slept his way out of helping a girl with her luggage!" _But first thing's first..._

* * *

**THIRTY MINUTES LATER with Elizabeth**

We were huffing. Both of us. This was hopeless. Stupid. My _wits _had reached their end. My _patience _had reached its limit. My _vocabulary _had officially run out. And there was still an hour and a half left. What the hell was I going to do?

Just then, I got my answer. I saw the flight attendants peak from behind the curtains. I have to say, I'd never been so glad to see their bulky, noisy carts clumsily make their way down the aisle. Food! I was always in a better mood when food was around! What was this, lunch? Snacks? I wasn't quite tall enough to see over the chairs in front of me, and I was in no state to even consider asking the nightmare next to me. I guess I'd just wait. But as the smell drifted into my vicinity, my mouth started to water. Definitely lunch.

The jerk was obviously thinking along the same lines. His body perked up, and his taut nose was on high alert. I hoped the flight attendants would serve me first.

Mission accomplished. A hot, fresh plate of food greeted my sight, and I cautiously, carefully placed the precious commodity onto my lunch tray. Finally, a welcome distraction.

"You know, you're gonna need a fork for that."

"More like a _knife _if you don't mind your own business." I was done trying to be nice to this guy. I'd practically spelled it out for him by now. I did NOT want his company, much less his opinions. I made a mental note to tell Matt that I'd found the lost brother he's always wanted.

Lapping up his food like a starving pig who made it to the trough, he managed to muffle through a stuffed throat, "As much as it must be a shock to you that people do exist in this universe besides yourself," he paused for a moment to fill any empty space that may have been accidently left vacant in his mouth. I guess he wanted to make double sure he could be as repulsive as possible before continuing on, "You're not the only one having a shitty day right now."

I kept my mouth shut. I didn't trust myself.

"Oh, what, _now_ you don't wanna whine about how unfair life is?" He shook is head, "Look at you," he said, slurping on his soda. "You're so selfish you don't even know when you're being selfish. And I can't even _explain _to you how selfish you're being because you're _too _selfish to do _any_thing besides _being _selfish. But alas, I'm mistaken, aren't I? Because you, lady, could never be selfish, could you? No. How dare I suggest such I thing, right?"

Cutting my chicken as calmly as I could muster, I retorted, "What part of, DON'T. TALK. TO. ME., do you not understand?" Honestly, I didn't understand the sort of impression I was seeming to make on him. _Selfish? Moi?_ I'm the good guy, the protagonist, the heroine. There was no way that could be right. I'm the most giving person I know. And what's worse, I didn't know how to make him shut his mouth. He was quickly on his way to knocking Kate off her throne as #1 on my hate list ALREADY! What a bully. Just a-a, a meanie! I wanted to cry, but as if I was going to give him the satifaction.

"You want to hear what _my _day's been like? I can tell you, it's quickly becoming the worst day of my life. You better believe I can bitch and moan just as loud as you about it. You know what the difference is, though? I don't take my shitty day out on anyone. Like it's _my _fault your life is falling apart." He scoffed, chewing up some more chicken. I could feel my blood boiling from all the cheap shots he was taking at me. "Since we've met all I've heard is how bad you have it right now. Well, guess what? You're not the only one!"

He was _unbelievable_! I wasn't even trying to bitch about my day! I was just trying to inform him so maybe he could feel a sense of compassion for me, and understand my mood a little more. _Ugh! He was getting EVERYTHING about me completely wrong!_ And I just couldn't take it anymore! "Okay!" I cracked. "Enough! Get it through your thick skull, jerk, we met two hours ago. _Two_ hours ago! So don't sit there and act like you've figured me all out because you haven't. If anything, you've completely missed the mark! If you knew anything about me, you would know I'm the most loyal, giving person! But it looks like you'll never know that side of me, and honestly, it's your loss, buddy. So, please, just stop sounding like a _whiny boyfriend_ already and shut up!"

"You _would _think that, wouldn't you?" he continued to argue. These pointless battles were just getting more and more exasperating. "I forgot every male on earth just had to be strongly attracted to you. My bad. I guess I didn't get the memo."

God, he was scum. A scum I just was not equipped to deal with. But one of us had to put an end to it now, before we disturbed the other passengers again. "Don't think I don't despise your existence just as much as you despise mine," I clipped, trying gain some ground on my anger, "But, if you don't quit your shit, we're both going to get into some _very_ serious trouble. And that's just something I cannot afford right now. So if you know what's good for you, you'll _shut the hell up!_"

"Yes, you're highness," he mocked. "Whatever it takes to not have to hear your whining ever again."

I don't know why I let him get to me. But I did. A fact I will forever be ashamed of. "Oh, really? _My _whining?" I said, slicing through my chicken with ease now, "How about _yours?_ I'm David Gordon, the only son of a multi-millionaire, and I can't stand my life so I have to take it out on innocent strangers! _Waah! Waah! Waah!_" I popped some of the chicken into my mouth, feeling quite pleased with myself. I finally had something over the bastard! Point for McGuire.

He stared at me, stupified over my response. "How the _hell_ do you know who I am?"

I rolled my eyes. "It's called common sense," I said smoothly. "Your shoes? Your hair? It's obvious you've been regurgitated from some fancy all-boys private school, and there's not many to choose from in Orlando. Secondly, your wardrobe. You're rich, of course, but I could've told you that from the first clue. No, you're a different kind of rich. You're V-neck is made of a smooth material that could only have come from Italy. Your pants have a type of stitching on them that dates back to the 1950s. The only place in the world they do that any more is Paris. But the biggest clue of all was your watch. My dad makes watches for a living and he made yours. I remember him making that watch, too. It was his greatest masterpiece. He said it was a birthday present for a certain important family, and how many families are important in Orlando, especially one close to Hillridge?"

When I was done, it was his turn to gape. Ha, _sucker_. He obviously didn't realize his own fame. I could tell all that stuff about his wardrobe because, _hello_, I won a freakin' scholarship because of my fashion skills. I lied about my father making watches, but I knew his had to have been custom-made because if they sold watches like that commercially, I would've heard about it. But really, I just recognized the name from his luggage tags. _David Gordon_, the most eligible bachelor in the city according to Hillridge High, whose resident girls aspired to marry rich. Not me though; I had bigger aspirations than that.

In all those years, though, I knew of him only in name. And now, as I glanced at him sitting across from me, I wished desperately that it would've stayed that way. I thought of all those girls at Hillridge High (especially Kate), and couldn't help but think how any of them would die to be in my position right now. What they didn't know, however, is how much their prince turned out to be a real a-hole. Perhaps, I speculated, because he had a solid case of the Kate syndrome: the abysmal effects that result when a kid grows up having everything. And I had a strong feeling he did.

* * *

**THAT INSTANT with David**

Flabbergasted couldn't even begin to describe how flabbergasted I was by her Sherlock Holmes-esque analysis of me. Huh, maybe the little brat wasn't as dumb as she let on after all. In another world, I might have even gained a little respect for her on a purely academic level. At this moment, however, it was bloody annoying to realize that the little worm had left me speechless. Like a thorn in my side. Like a pain in my-

"Close your mouth. You look like a fish."

Snapped out of my momentary lapse of confusion, I began delving into my lunch yet again. And for a few moments, we both ate in silence. For airplane food, it really was quite tasty. The chicken, though microwaved, was passable, as was the mashed potatoes, green beans, and gravy. What really caught my interest was the Jell-O. I LOVE Jello-O. Ever since I was a kid I loved Jell-O. Of course, back then, the only flavors they offered were strawberry and cherry. Now, thanks to technology I guess, the flavor possibilities had grown exponentially, and one of my greatest joys in life was tackling those myriad of flavors.

Kyle used to make fun of me about my obsession with Jell-O. He used to say how insulting he thought it was to him to have his only guy friend display feminine characteristics. I didn't agree with him of course. I don't know what sort of logic places Jell-O into the feminine category, but nonetheless obsessed with Jell-O I was. So you can maybe understand why I was practically helpless in trying not to blurt out the next few words that escaped my lips:

"Are you going to eat your Jell-O?"

In response, I was greeted with the sight of clumped mashed potatoes flying directly at my face. "Don't even think about it."

It took a moment for me to realize exactly what had just happened. It's not every day you get a fist full of mashed potatoes thrown in your face. Did she really just do that? Irrationally, I grabbed her green beans (as if I was going to waste mine), and stuffed them down the front of her tank top. She gasped in response.

"Why you-" We both silently looked at the other, both desperately trying to make sense of the situation, and then, it was on.

Punch splattered across my shirt. "JERK! YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THIS SHIRT COST ME?"

Gravy poured into her hair. "NOT AS MUCH AS THIS OUTFIT YOU LUNATIC!"

"THIS WILL TAKE A WEEK TO WASH OUT!" she shrieked, and green beans were forced up my nostrils.

"I HOPE IT NEVER WASHES OUT!" I yelled, and mashed potatoes were spread across her neck.

Other objects were thrown in as well, anything we could grab our hands on really. Looking back on it, I can't really say what either of us were thinking, except that maybe we weren't. No, I can say with total confidence we weren't.

"Fine. You want my Jell-O?" she dared, grabbing her cup holding the delightful substance. "HERE! YOU CAN HAVE IT!" She began firing chunks at me, and I felt each loss shooting straight into my heart. _This girl knew no limits!_

"You're such a two year old!" I yelled, grabbing some more mashed potatoes. There was no way I was sinking to her level with the Jell-O wasting. "You don't deserve a name like a Elizabeth. You need a baby name! Like _Lizzie!_"

She gasped. "Don't you dare call me that!" Then, she went for my Jell-O, and I gasped. She started chunking that at me as well. _This girl had no soul!_ "Only my best friend in the entire world calls me that," she chucked her entire plate at me, "AND THAT WILL NEVER BE YOU!"

"Lizzie! Lizzie! Lizzie!" I taunted.

"STOP IT!" She threw her magazine at me.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see the 'proper authorities' making their way through the aisles. Instantly, I knew we were both in for it. Stupid girl, she was ruining my life! Man, my father was _not _going to be happy about this.

* * *

**LANDING IN CALI with Lizzie**

"It's all your fault and you know it, LIZZIE!"

"No, it's your fault and you know it, GORDO!"

"_GORDO?_"

"Yes, _GORDO_. It's your baby name. Do you like it?"

"No."

"Too bad."

"Shh! You're going to get us into even more trouble if you don't shut your big mouth!"

"More trouble? How can there be any more trouble? We're handcuffed to a chair! _In an airport!_"

"I don't know. _Think,_ you stupid cow! What about jail? How does your minuscule brain feel about _jail_?"

"_You're_ the stupid cow! And I'm not going to jail, only _you _are once I tell them how awful you've been this entire time!"

"No, _you'll_ be the one going to jail once _I_ prove that this whole thing only started because of you!"

"Did not, GORDO!"

"Did too, LIZZIE!"

"Did not, did not, did not times infinity!"

"Did too times double infinity!"

"Did too times-"

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, COOL IT! THE BOTH OF YOU!" The room fell quiet as a big, husky, and I should probably add _intimidating _authority figure entered the room. He was wearing a suit, but no nametag.

I was miserable, beat, and drained, handcuffed to a chair alongside my new archenemy. Worst. Day. Ever. The food had sunk into my clothes by now, making them squishy and soggy. I could still feel the gravy in my hair, and the soda in my shoes. I wanted my mommy! Realizing the big guy was still here, I wondered who he was, and more importantly if he was going to let me off the hook or not. Suddenly, I felt like I was in the principal's office, and what was more worrisome is that I had never actually been called into the principal's office before. (I'm not counting the whole terrorism fiasco because that time, I at least _knew_ I was innocent. Now, I wasn't so sure.)

The big man slowly walked to the front of the room and sighed, seemingly with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Poor guy. "No one is going to jail. But you will both be fined heavily, for, frankly, the most ridiculously grandiose display of immaturity I have ever seen from two grown-ass adults! You should be ashamed of yourselves!"

I put my head down sheepishly, definitely feeling the weight of the shame. I couldn't argue with him. There was no reason for me to act the way I did during that plane ride. If anything, I should've realized sooner that _Gordo_ knew how to push my buttons, and I was in no state to be trying to handle that. Still, the deep loathing I felt for Gordo, however petty and stupid, was nonetheless what I truly felt. And in that alone did I feel justified.

Shaking his head, he continued, "But, given the relatively harmless nature of the crime, I will only fine each of you the cost for replacing your seats. You got them quite dirty, you know? Now, don't think to ever fly these airlines again with that kind of behavior. I'm going easy on you this time because I'm sure none of you meant any harm, but if you ever cause this sort of ruckus again, together or no, there will be _severe _consequences in store for you. This is a very serious business we're running, and it is important that we keep all our passengers, _including _the both of you, as safe as possible. Is this understood?"

We both nodded our heads.

"Good. You're free to go. Fred, uncuff them please."

Finally! It was over. I was free from the good-for-nothing and free to get on with my life as I'm sure he could get on with his. Good riddance. As I quickly gathered my luggage, still miserable in my current state, all I could manage to think was _Boy, did I have a story to tell Miranda_. And secondly, _Boy, how will I ever get her to believe me?_

* * *

****I'm SUPER sorry it took me so long to post this. I know I'm like three weeks behind schedule. This was just one of those chapters I felt was extremely important for the story's development, so I tried hard to achieve the perfect tone I wanted to set. These next couple of chapters shouldn't be as difficult.**

**I worked extra hard on this chapter, and I hope it shows. I really wanted this chapter to establish not only the relationship between Lizzie and Gordo, but also to highlight their character flaws. I hope it doesn't read as too harsh. I hope you guys can understand exactly why Lizzie and Gordo hate each other right now.**

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REMEMBER TO FLAME OR REVIEW! I try my hardest to produce quality work, and I'd really like to be able to discuss it with fellow writers. I'M BEGGING YOU! IT KEEPS ME MOTIVATED!**

**Anyways, that's enough of that. Happy New Year's everybody! Let's have a great 2011!**

* * *

**Plac3b0:** me neither! xD

**Glitterwave:** You've made my day as well! Thanks for sticking around all these years. I look forward to hearing whether you like the new direction I'm taking with the story.

**KaYlaNnE95:** Thanks for your words of wisdom. I'll try to keep that in mind.

**LeLa London:** You will see lots of updates soon! Hope to hear from you soon!

**Iheartlovinglove:** Wow! Thanks for the big compliment! Reading this review for the first time, and every time since, continues to make my day. Thank you so much!

**AllisonCooper:** When I have writer's block, as I'm sure will happen any day now, you can bet I'll take you up on your offer. I don't know what prompted you to write this lovely review, but thank you, from one writer to another.


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